


Frozen Solitude

by luna_ruby



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:31:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luna_ruby/pseuds/luna_ruby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After one tragedy too many Clark Kent has moved into the Fortress of Solitude, letting his heart settle into permafrost, locked away from all humanity. Now an unknown force sets into motion a plan that just might melt a frozen heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Frozen Solitude**

 

Warning: This fic has a dark side and has been described as a tissue fic. Rated M for future mature themes and language.

 

 

**_Prologue_ **

 

_This was just great. This was the single weirdest thing that had ever happened to her, this was the weirdest thing she had ever even heard of happening to someone, and she had listened to the whole wall of weird explanation. You go to bed one night every thing's normal, the next thing you know your locked in some weird room hoping the tights brigade aren't as insane as their wardrobes. Now what Lane?_

 

Having nothing better to do in this room that looked somewhat like a walk in closet and desperate for some form of answers she pressed her ear against the plastic looking door and strained to hear. She could just barely make out the voices on the other side.

 

“So do you think maybe it's a robot?” an all too enthusiastic boyish voice questioned.

 

“No she's flesh and blood...” She recognized that voice, the flying guy who brought her here.

 

_What on earth are they talking about? I seem to be the new development... but they must have sad lives to conjecture about me, so I fell from no where on to a freeway... okay so maybe their lives aren't that sad._

“What ever you called me for had better be important.” The voice was cold, harsh, commanding and strangely familiar.

 

“I wouldn't have called you if...” flying guy starts up but then is quickly interrupted by cold familiar voice guy.

 

“If it's another piece of Brainiac I already told you what to do with those things.”

 

“No, nothing like that - at least we don't think it's anything like that - I said she could be a robot but no body else thinks so - she's kinda hot a little weird and wearing bunny slippers. Oh! she could be an evil alien shape shifter - er no offense there - but to get to the point when we heard what she called herself we knew you were the only one who would know what to do.” The kid voiced out in about 2 seconds.

 

Lois looked down at her now horribly scuffed bunny slippers, Y _ep talking about me. What I called myself? I just told the flying tights man my name-_ Before she could finish her thought creepy cold guy spoke.

 

“What did she call herself.” It wasn't a question it was a demand worded like a question.

 

“Well *gulp*... she ah called herself Lois Lane.” Flying guy said.

 

“Show me.” Lois jumped back from the door ...not knowing what would appear when it opened up. That and the prospect of falling on her face when her support fell through got her moving fast. What she saw when the door slid up shocked her more than anything else to date.

 

He was tall, his hair slick backed, wearing some weird black and white unitard. His stance, dress and grooming all made her think of the military, he stood tall shoulders back not a hair out of place or a wrinkle to be found. His lips were pulled back into a snarl, his blue-green eyes were colder then his voice, which she had not thought possible, and a flash of anger seemed to jump into them as he examined her closely, but like the rest of him the anger was as cold as ice.

 

Despite all these things she recognized him at once. She had just seen him yesterday, but everything about him was so wrong it made it hard to believe. So she did the only logical thing she could do. She looked him straight in the eye and said: “Smallville?”

 

**********************************************************************

 

Author's note and excuses:

This fic is my first huge fic and I am afraid to finish it. Seriously. It hasn't been worked on in 2 years (I first started working on it in 2007!) sorry... really sorry for anyone who has read what I have posted elsewhere, but I really do WANT to work on it and finish it. Right now it has 26 chapters including the prologue finished and will probably be about 29-30 chapters long, it's that close to the end, probably where the horrible anxity is coming from... possibly. I plan to try and post one chapter every week, while rereading and hopefully by the time what's written is up, what's written will be the whole fic. You have all been warned...


	2. Dead

**Chapter One - Dead**

_He left a small trail of kisses along the left side of her face. She sighed contentedly and looked him in the eye before she plastered on a grin that stretched from ear to ear, how he loved that grin. She was up to something, the grin and the sparkle in her eyes told him all he needed to know. A small chuckle escaped his lips before his fingers crept down to her sides. He still knew a trick or two. With gentle precision he stroked his fingers along her slightly exposed ribs. Giggles burst forth from her and she rolled herself inward._

_“Clark!” she gasped out._

_He didn't relent until her less steady fingers hooked his ears and pulled his face down into a passionate kiss. He reached up his right hand to cup the side of her face. His thumb gently stroking her cheek, showing his love to every one of her laugh lines. He reached his other hand up to gently brush back the beautiful gray hairs that had fallen across her face. He looked into her deep brown eyes, and saw that look again._

_“Lois...” he whispered, please not again._

_“Promise me Clark,” she pleaded. Tears staining her eyes. “Please, promise me.” He turned away. He couldn't face those eyes and he couldn't tell her what she wanted to hear._

_“I can't,” was all he could say. Her hand grasped his but he couldn't look, he couldn't face it._

_“Clark...” she didn't finish. Her hand felt like ice and the grip fell away. He turned to stare at her now lifeless eyes, her lips still whispering “Promise me...”_

He awoke cold. He was situated far to the right side of his bed, he never strayed too far from it, as if he actually shared the large bed with someone. He looked at the clock on the wall, 5 hours of sleep, 2 more than he usually got and this weeks high by some measure. He didn't fear returning to sleep, he simply wasn't tired just cold. _Always cold_. He floated up out of the bed his feet barely touching the floor of the fortress before marched off to put on his uniform, not that that would block out the cold, nothing ever did.

He moved into the main entrance of the fortress to see one of his crystals blinking orange. _A message? Couldn't anyone do anything with out calling him for help?_ He gently tapped the crystal and the face of Kyle, one of the new Green Lanterns, popped up before him. _Great, the Justice League Earth bound division._

“Superman, we have a situation down here, I found something... unusual during my patrol. I thought you might want to deal with it yourself. So could you head down to the Metropolis station as soon as you're able?”

The kid sounded terrified to be speaking to him, it didn't bother him. _Something unusual? A piece of Brainiac?_ Superman couldn't think of anything else that would make them think he would want to take care of it himself and that wouldn't set off a more grand scale alert. He would go. If this was something that petty he would have to make sure they knew not to bother him for trivial matters. One way or another it wouldn't be entirely pointless.

Superman's flight to the Metropolis station was a quick one. He disliked visiting the area and knew it far too well to care for sight seeing. The Metropolis station was just like every other Justice League outpost. Buying in bulk was easier to hide so every station was made from the exact same stuff. It's gray and white alloy walls and doors were only occasionally spotted with uniqueness from battle marks and a few odd personal touches some of the members had left from their early days; once you were part of the League for awhile you knew it wasn't like decorating your desk at work. He opened to door to the conference room, which hastily slid up. Green Lantern was talking with the Flash, Superman had long ago stopped trying to keep track of which one, and Matrix. Everyone stopped talking the second he entered the room, and he hadn't cared enough to listen to their conversation. It was time to get to the bottom of this.

“What ever you called me for had better be important.” he stated.

“I wouldn't have called you if...” Kyle said with a shaken voice. Superman didn't feel like listening to ramblings of a nervous kid. So he got to the point.

“If it's another piece of Brainiac I already told you what to do with those things.”

The Flash streaked up to Green Lantern's side, “No, nothing like that,” He spoke almost as fast as he had run “At least we don't think it's anything like that-I said she could be a robot but no body else thinks so-she's kinda hot a little weird and wearing bunny slippers. Oh! she could be an evil alien shape shifter-” Flash's eyes darted to Matrix, “Er no offense there-” she simply shrugged. Then Flash turned back to Superman, “But to get to the point when we heard what she called herself we knew you were the only one who would know what to do.”

_Some girl? What did this have to do with him?_ He would find out. He looked to Kyle. “What did she call herself.” he demanded, this game would end now.

“Er well...” Kyle said before gulping nervously. Superman stared down at the youth, “She ah called herself Lois Lane,” he finally blurted out.

Superman felt his heart contract, an icy anger crept though his being, this was the last thing he had been expecting. His mind raced _Who would dare? What kind of sick game was someone playing with him? When I find out they'll wish they had never been born..._

“Show me.” Were the only words able to escape his lips. Green Lantern pointed to the far left door of the conference room. He needed no more instructions and marched over to the door swiftly entering his access code and watched the door slide open. When he saw her his anger increased ten fold. For a moment he almost believed it. Who ever had done this certainly had done their homework.

It stood before him wearing a face of shock, flannel pajamas and bunny slippers. Its stance and face changed to what he had come to recognize as Lois' 'I'm worried but I'm not going to let you know that' look. He wanted to punch her look off its face. _She wouldn't want that, it probably has no idea what it is._ He repeated that thought in his head to keep calm. He quickly x-rayed it. _100% biological. A clone?_

He would find out and he would make whoever was responsible pay. _Sick twisted bastards_. He looked at its face. Exactly as hers had been so long ago. Its eyes were filled with confusion. What happened next he wasn't prepared for. It met his gaze, raised a delicate brow, and wrinkled its nose. “Smallville?” she questioned.

 

-Author's note:  
Please feel free to leave me notes or ask questions. It will help me spend time thinking about the fic and that helps me write!


	3. Broken

**Chapter Two – Broken**

_Smallville? Smallville? It can't be..._

 

Superman was pulled out of his thoughts when Flash suddenly spoke up.

“Smallville? Lady that's Superman- You must be really crazy to think you're Lois Lane and not recognize Superman- Sorry we bugged you with this man it's obvious now she's just a loon we'll-”

 

“Get out.” He whispered, never taking his eyes off of her. When the Flash just stood there slack jawed Superman turned to face the three superheros. “I said get out, all of you get out. Now!” His throat felt tight as he almost yield almost pleaded for them to leave. Flash's eyes widened and then he was gone in a blur. Kyle and Matrix were also able to take a hint and ran out the main door. Once they were gone he turned back to the ... he didn't know what to think of her as. She stared up at him and crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“Superman?” She balked, “What the hell is going on here Smallville? What is this place? Who were they? and how do you know them? ...”

 

He didn't speak, he couldn't. Every movement, every expression, every word they were all Lois'. He had committed each one to memory. It was too sick for words. A mockery of Lois...

 

“... and what is up with the outfit? I know I told you to cut out the plaid but don't you think this is going a little too far? Are you even listening to me?”

 

He couldn't bare it any longer, he reached out and grabbed her by her shoulders “Shut up!” he screamed, “Just shut up. Stop playing this game.” Her eyes got wide and a look of fear jumped into them. He remembered every time he had seen that look on Lois' face, they were never good times, she tried to hide it in the exact same way. He felt a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. “You're not her. You're not! Tell me what's going on!” He was snarling. He felt himself shaking her without intending to. “Tell me! Tell me the truth you little bitch!” That's when she kicked him, hard. She hissed in pain and he dropped her. She collapsed to the floor and grabbed her shin.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you Clark!” She screamed. Her face was contorted in fear, anger, and pain. He had hurt her. His throat tightened.

_How could I lose so much control? How could I hurt her? No, not her, not Lois._ He kept repeating to himself that she wasn't real but the burning knot in his stomach wouldn't release. He looked her in the eyes. _Solve it. Get to the bottom of this and get over it._ He told himself. Leaning over he x-rayed her leg. _Only superficial damage_ , _good. One less sin._ He helped her up gently offering her his hand. At first he was sure she was going to refuse but then she meet his gaze and grabbed his hand reluctantly. By her face he could tell she was shocked when he picked her up in his arms and carried her into the conference room where he set her down in a chair. He didn't sit down.

 

“What's the last thing you remember?” He thought it was a productive choice.

 

“You mean before you went all psychopath on me?” She glowered at him. He just looked at her, the cold had returned and he welcomed it. When it seemed that she was unwilling to continue until he acknowledged her question he nodded. “Glowing green guy swooped me out of the air, called me Miss so I introduced myself , then he started acting weird and flew me back here against my will!”

 

“His name is Green Lantern, and I'm interested in what happened before that.” It wasn't as if he cared what she called Kyle, but the way she was doing it... he wouldn't think about that.

 

“Since your the one acting crazy shouldn't I get to ask the questions?” Her eyes had a small twinkle of mischief in them for a moment before it snuffed out. If she was Lois he would say she just remembered how mad she is at him.

_She isn't Lois._ He reminded himself.

When he failed to answer her she shrugged in annoyed defeat, “It was night. I brushed my teeth, put on my Pajamas, told Chlo to get off the computer and go to bed, pulled back the covers and jumped in bed, just like any other night. Any of this helping you? 'cause it sure isn't helping me understand what happened to you.”

 

This was too much for him. It was too Lois. Every detail. Everything she said, not just the words but the way she said them. The passion, the sarcasm, the twinkle, thinking that he was the one out of place all perfect, all Lois. He stared into her eyes needing to see the flaw, the proof that this wasn't his Lois. That what ever was going on didn't change anything. Proof that this sick joke would end.

 

Her eyes softened. Her righteous furry ebbed away, being replaced by fear. Fear for him. Her eyes filled with worry.

 

“Clark?” ... _promise me..._ He stumbled away from her. _No, no! It's not real!_ She had gotten up and was approaching him reaching her arm out to help. _No!_ His guts twisted. His eyes burned. His throat was a knot. He couldn't speak. He couldn't think. He couldn't breath.

 

He grabbed the nearest chair and throw it with the limited strength he could muster. The chair flew into the wall and implanted itself half way through the dense metal. Lois didn't seem to notice the chair or his feat of strength. He couldn't look her in the eye, so he kept his back to her. He felt ashamed, he wasn't certain if it was shame for believing, failing to believe, or...

 

She slipped up behind him cautiously placing her hands on his back. When he didn't pull away she moved closer leaning against him ever so slightly, as close to a hug as she could get. Her hands were soothing, the left gently stroking his right shoulder blade. How many times had he stood with Lois just like this? even he had failed to keep track. Dozens maybe hundreds of nights when things had gone wrong. When he had failed. They had stood together, he would stare out the window of their apartment and she would whisper to him, calling him back to himself. Standing here like this, with her, it felt right, and that was what was so wrong about it.

 

“Clark? what's wrong? You're scaring me...” Before she could say any more he spun around to face her. Her eyes were full of shock and concern. He couldn't take any more, so he kissed her.

 

 

 


	4. Distance

**Chapter three -**   **Distance**

 

_He couldn't take any more, so he kissed her._

 It was by no means gentle. His lips slammed against hers. His eyes closed forcefully tears threating to well up in them. Clinging to her fiercely, he was unwilling or unable to let her pull away. His lips tangled with hers and when her lips gave way it was from surprise not passion. He didn't care. She felt like, smelled like, and oh she tasted like Lois. She tried to pull away, what small part of him recognized this could not stop the flood gate. Years of frustration, anger, loneliness, and pain, _Oh God the pain_ , were pouring out of him into the kiss, tainting it. It was stabbing pain swimming in bliss. He could feel her here, he could be forgiven, he could almost forget that it wasn't real.

 

She was finally able to worm her hands between them and push away at his chest. The tide pasted, the spell broke and he let her go. The cold that covered him was painful and biting. He felt his emptiness.

 

When he looked down at her finally. Her face was flushed, her lips slightly swollen, her eyes an unreadable swirl of chaotic emotions. Would she hit him? Hug him? Yell at him? Dig for answers? Run away from him?

 

Before these questions could be answered a small noise alerted him to the now ajar door with 8 or so members of the Justice League crammed up in it staring at them with wide eyes and slack jaws. _Of course, the chair. She may have failed to notice it but it was foolish to think that everyone else would._ Though in truth he hadn't thought of it at all.

 

She looked up at his face then followed his gaze, flushing even brighter at their audience.

 

“What?” She yelled, crossing her arms over her chest. “You people have nothing better to do then stare at me all day? Go!” Her arms left her chest as she pointed to them with her right and her left came to her hip, “Get lives!”

 

They all continued to stare. Some had flinched, some blinked, others' eyes grew wider. There would be no privacy here. Not after what they had witnessed. Even if he scared them out of the room, they would be back. Maybe invisible, maybe as a new chair, but no matter how they would come back.

 

He grabbed a hold of... _she's not Lois..._ her outstretched arm and walked her to the door. She stumbled along behind him, obviously still a little dazed.

 

When they reached their audience, headed by the Flash, _typical_ , a stair and the word “move” was enough for them to part out of his way.

 

His grip on her arm tightened as he dragged her through the whispering crowed. He could have heard ever word they said, but he didn't need to listen to know. They had caught cold emotionless Superman kissing some girl who claimed to be Lois Lane. The Lois Lane who rumor still persisted was the great love of Superman's life before he lost her to Clark Kent. He found that funny once, s _o had Lois_. He vividly remembered one evening so long ago when she had looked up at him with such sincerity and asked ' _Smallville, did I break your heart when I married you_?' The memory stung.

 

His thoughts went silent as they emerged from the outpost, onto the streets of Metropolis. He looked back to the girl, _who is not Lois,_ when he realized she had stop struggling against him and talking. She been trying to get out of his iron grip and complaining the whole way up till now. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she looked out into the Metropolis skyline. The Daily Planet globe was somewhat visible from here but overshadowed by several larger skyscrapers.

 

If she were to be believed then she was from when Lois had briefly shared the apartment above the talon with Chloe then this was a far cry from her Metropolis or any other city she may have seen. That would fit with how old she looked and her identification of him. That was before the glasses, before the cape, before any of the acts, before he had realized he loved her... _But I don't believe her, so that doesn't matter._ The thought wasn't as reassuring as it had once been.

 

He was so lost in his thoughts he had not stopped to think about where they were going. He had even failed to note the fact that he was walking down the busy streets in his Superman uniform dragging a girl in pajamas behind him. Flickers and flashes of light surrounded them as anyone who had anything that could take pictures or video was doing so.

 

She came back to herself and started pulling on his arm trying to break free.

 

“Slow down!” she hissed, “and let me go, I don't appreciate being dragged around.” He felt the arm he was hold twist slight. “Hey! I almost lost a slipper back there Clark...”

 

At the name Clark he almost panicked, he was Superman out in public being called Clark... Then reality sunk back in. She wasn't Lois and this wasn't the past. _Old habits._ Even if these people did believe her, even if they did get Clark Kent out of it, he had nothing left to hide _._ He could tell ever major news network in existence that Clark Kent was Superman and it wouldn't change anything for him. When had buried Clark Kent, shortly after he was forced to bury his wife, the list of people he actually knew in attendance was minimal. Those that were there then are gone now. He had no friends or family left to protect.

 

Another bright flash brought him out of the past. She was still talking.

 

“Clark slow down! Where are we even going?”

 

_Good question._ Where could he take her? The Fortress was out of the question, the damage that she could do there was far too great. Any Justice league base would be filled with questions he didn't want to answer. No he had to think of somewhere else they could go. Somewhere without a thousand prying eyes, or dangerous technology and information.

 

He looked around and it hit him like a punch to the gut. He had been taking her somewhere specific this entire time. The road they were on was etched into his mind, he had walk this street so many times. Much had changed but he still knew it. The idea made the knots return to his stomach, but it was an inescapable fact.

 

He was taking her home.

 


	5. Home

**Chapter 4 – Home**

 

_He was taking her home._

 

The silence that surrounded them as they rode up the old elevator wasn't awkward. It was painful. The kind of silence that cut deep into you and made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. He was on a 30 floor long elevator ride with a girl, a woman, who was too like Lois Lane, and she wasn't pleased. Though she faced forward she was staring at him out of the corner of her eye. He was trying not to look back at her. It wasn't going too well.

 

_Why did we have to have a penthouse?_ He thought bitterly. Of course he knew it was because taking off from the penthouse balcony was far less suspicious and noticeable then flying out of the second floor window, but the logic of the time wasn't helping with the problem now. The situation was out of hand. He didn't want to take her there. He tried to stop himself but there was no turning back. Some deep seated part of him needed to take her there and the rest of him failed to think of someplace better, or any place at all.

 

When the elevator reached the 8th floor the silence was broken.

 

“Why did you kiss me?” She said it calmly though her face read annoyed.

 

“Of all the things to ask..” He muttered. She must have had super hearing as well, because she interrupted him right there.

 

“I asked you everything else already and you ignored me. I thought I would try a different question to see if it met your standards.”

 

She was mad, and he recognized just what type of mad it was. It wasn't the dented cast-iron, cussing and death threats mad, this was the him sleeping on the couch for a week with conversation only on what was required for work mad. The first was much easier to deal with and ... _Stop, she isn't Lois._

 

“Well?”

 

“I don't know...” It was the truth but that didn't seem to please her.

 

“That wasn't an I don't know kiss, Clark. I don't know kisses are closed mouth and quick. That was angry lip sex.”

 

_What can I possibly say to that_? Nothing came, so he returned his gaze to the slowly increasing numbers on the top of the elevator. Lois, _She's not Lois!_ SHE was not one to give up so easily however.

 

“You show up, start yelling at me like a crazy person, the next minute you're cold as ice, then you act like I just told you I ran over Shelby, and then you grab me and try to inhale my stomach so I think you owe me an explanation!”

 

How could he explain any of this to her, ' _You are not Lois, Lois is dead, you are some creation sent here to torment me, and for no sane reason I'm taking you back to apartment I shared with her?'_ That would go over well. He looked over at her. She wasn't even pretending to follow elevator etiquette any more and was turned glaring straight at him with her arms across her chest. He looked away before he spoke.

 

“We're almost there, I'll try to explain then.” It was the best he could do, but he doubted she saw it that way.

 

He spent the rest of the ride avoiding her gaze and thinking of what he would say. Too long became too short as the elevator reached the top floor and he still had reached no great insight on how to make her understand.

 

When the doors opened he stepped out. She just stood there glaring. He calmly stepped back in took her arm and led her out. She didn't fight him but he didn't have her cooperation either. The apartment was at the end of the hall number 3005. Superman and Lois walked together in silence.

 

When they reached the door his hand gently touched the old wood. His eyes closed as a  swell of memories flowed through him. Days, nights, kisses, fights, long talks, pillows, slow dancing. His grip on her arm tightened instinctively as single word escaped his lips barely a whisper almost a prayer, “...Lois...”

_'I need you to promise me Clark...'_

 

“Where are we?” she finally spoke waking him from his trance.

 

“This is... was her-your apartment...” he couldn't make the words come out right. He watched as one of her eyebrows raised.

 

“What do you mean my-” he cut her off by opening the door. He didn't have the key, but that wasn't really an issue. He could replace the handle later.

 

The apartment was dark, it's midnight blue curtains remained drawn blocking out the light from the large windows, so he reached out and flipped the light switch on the wall. His hand knew what it was doing before he did. The bulb in the overhead lamp was slow to illuminate, but he supposed he should be thankful it worked at all given how old it was. Other then the layer of dust and cobwebs the apartment was exactly as he had left it 37 years ago. Bits of the coffee table were scattered about the hard wood floor and the blue and purple oriental rug. Brightly colored glass sparkled in the dim light, some bits embedded in the walls others scattered about the floor all from the Tiffany lamps and vase. There was a perfect fist sized hole with trailing cracks in the wall between the main room and their bedroom that left a splash of plaster in both rooms.

 

The rest of the furniture was untouched, save a few turned over chairs, still standing in the place Lois had decreed the last time she felt like re-decorating, he had little say in the design, Lois didn't buy into his 'farmhouse chic.' The plush burgundy couch, was positioned on the left wall after then entrance into the kitchen area facing what had once been a modest entertainment center. The couch looked pinkish from all the dust and was still covered in Lois' beloved throw pillows, though most now resided on the floor. Most of the pictures had been taken down from the walls and a few personal trinkets were missing but almost all of the finishing touches, bits of art, a wall mirror, a crystal candy dish, pots for now long dead house plants and other assorted nick-knacks and decorations, remained in place. A shrine to their life together. The tomb for his heart.

 

It had been three weeks before he snapped. Three weeks of walking around like nothing happened, going through the motions of his life as if his heart was still there. Then came the rage, then the tears, and finally the cold.

 

She stood at the threshold of the apartment looking in. She looked curious at first, then after a moment it melted away to concern. She looked at him. Their eyes met for a moment before she quickly flicked them  back to the apartment.

 

He openly watched her as she examined the evidence before her. His mind couldn't stop itself from thinking how breathtaking she looked. Of course to him Lois, _she only looks like Lois,_ was always beautiful. The fact that he found this girl who looks like Lois to be beautiful standing looking confused in her pajamas and... _wait..._ He looked down at her bunny slippers and then to the glass on the floor. _This wont do..._

“I'll get you a pair of shoes,” he stated and walked out of the room before she could say anything. He opened the door to his bedroom and walked in. It smelled like death, though he knew no one else would be able to smell it. He tried not to look at anything, _just go to the closet get the shoes get out_ , easier thought then done... His eyes were drawn to the bed. The curtains were slightly open allowing sunlight to filter in onto the soft blue cotton sheets pulled tight across it. He had made the bed in the morning on the day he left. As he stared an image crawled up into his sight: Lois lying in their bed, curled sightly to her right, her eyes closed, her long gray hair an unbrushed tangled mess, a slight frown nit on her face. He felt his stomach flip and his throat tighten. He turned away quickly but the image remained burned into his mind. _...closet... shoes..._ He sped over to the closet opened it up and grabbed the first pair of Lois' shoes he could find.

 

When he exited the bedroom the smell subsided and he was able to look at the shoes he had chosen. A pair of emerald green pointed toed high heels. The look on the young woman's face at his reemergence showed her opinion of his 'choice.' He didn't care, he wouldn't go back to get another pair, she would make due with what she got. He tossed the shoes to her.

 

“High heels?” she questioned.

 

“They were what I found. Deal with it,” He replied coldly. He didn't need this.

 

“Since this was _my_ apartment, I would think I would have some comfortable shoes...” She muttered but she slipped off the slippers and put on the heels. She moved slowly about the apartment, looking at everything, like she was trying to determine if anything was indeed hers. _It's not._ His mind hissed, _It's Lois', not yours..._

 

He turned away from her. He didn't want to watch,  didn't want to see Lois when he looked at her. To his surprise he found himself saying:

 

“Why don't you go take a shower and get changed,” it wasn't a question, and it wasn't a suggestion, it was a command, “There are clothes in this room,” he gestured to the bedroom door, “and a bathroom just beyond with towels in it.”

 

“What?” She demanded. He turned to face her. Her borrows where lifted, eyes confused and blinking, though little sparks of annoyance danced in them. He didn't know if she was confused because she hadn't heard him or because she had.

 

“Go take a shower and get dressed,” He restated. When that failed to get her moving and the anger in her eyes increased, presumably for being ordered around he added, “you're still wearing pajamas, you hate the shoes I brought out, and we both could use some time to think.” He was unsure where the sudden confidence he felt came from, but his need for alone time with his thoughts out weighed his disgust at the idea of someone else wearing Lois' cloths. She looked down at her feet.

 

“Fine.” She stated, still obviously angry, and marched over to the bedroom door. “but when I get out, you and I are going to have a talk mister!” with that threat she opened the door to the bedroom, he looked away quickly.

 

Alone with his thoughts once more he fell into familiar habits. He pulled the back curtains aside, dust swirled around and the sunlight filtered in. With the curtains out of the way the view of the terrace and city scape beyond was revealed. He tipped one of the chairs upright and had a seat staring out the windows. Sunlight gently warming him. Though the view had changed along with the city over the years staring out into it still felt familiar enough that he was able to forget for a few moments.

 

He was lost in thoughts of nothing when the view suddenly changed. Red shoes filled his vision. Long red boots slowly floated down revealing the rest of their owner: long legs; Golden Lasso at the hip; star spangled blue bottoms... _could this day get any worse?_


	6. Lost

**Chapter 5 – Lost**

 

_Could this day get any worse?_

 

“Kal-El,” Princess Diana began.

 

He looked up at her face. Diana looked the same as always. Looked the same as the day he met her, though her eyes showed her emotions differently now. A hardness had replaced the wondering innocence. Despite this the concern in her eyes was easy to read. _So she knows._

 

“Diana,” He replied coldly. “Now this is the part where you ask what is going on when you obviously already know. Then you'll ask if it's really her. Then if I'm alright. Then if there is anything you can do to help. So how about I save us an hour of uncomfortable conversation that neither of us wants: I don't know; no; and get the hell out.”

 

Diana's face tightened into an all too familiar scowl, Bruce's. “Still haven't grown up I see. This could be very serious Kal-El and you cannot get past your petty personal issues.”

 

He stood up staring straight into her eyes, narrowing his own and tightening his jaw. Her superior demeanor filled him with a cold rage; he wouldn't be talked down to like a child.

 

“What I do is none of _your_ business!” He snarled.

 

“You're out of control and _that_ is my business.” She took a deep breath visibly calming. “Kal-El,” She said calmly, “everyone is worried about you. This wouldn't be the first time someone has tried to use Lois against you, we need to-”

 

“I'm handling it!” He screamed, “I don't need you around!” He turned his head away. He hated looking at her.

 

“I know this is hard for you; However, I am not the enemy here.” Diana reached out to touch his shoulder but he pushed her hand away, and returned his gaze to her face. She wouldn't touch him again, he'd make sure of it. “I have never been your enemy Kal-El. I'm here to help.” He hated how calm she was. Diana wore a mask of grace, it made him sick, for he knew what lay underneath. Acid laced memories of a time when he called her a friend drifted through his mind. _Those days are gone_. He didn't want her pity, her friendship, her false air of nobility.

 

“I don't need your help.” The words were bitter in his mouth.

 

“You said it yourself, you don't know if she is really Lois or not, perhaps I might help.”

 

“How could _you_ possibly help?” He hoped the words stung but Diana showed no signs of feeling his intent. Only a raised eyebrow.

 

“I knew her, perhaps-”

 

“You didn't know her!”

 

“Perhaps not as well as you Kal-El, but I knew her. Your closeness to this issue is obviously clouding your judgment. It is understandable: I cannot...” Diana looked pained for the first time, _good,_ before the graceful mask fell back into place, “However, I was her friend-”

 

“You were never Lois' friend. A friend would never do what you did.”

 

“Don't you dare! By Hera I've had enough of this Kal-El. Your wife was a dear friend and a true sister to me, you and I have made mistakes but that has nothing to do with the relationship I had with Lois.”

 

“How can you say that!? How can you act like you're innocent!” His voice was filled with venom as he released the icy cold of his wrath upon her. “A real friend would never do what you did! If you cared at all about her you never would have... we- it never would have happened! You talk about how much you care about Lois and how meaningful your relationship is, but you don't give a damn! Just like with Bruce! Out of sight out of mind! Right? Did you ever even love him or was it some experiment into the ways of 'Man's World'? Well I won't play your little games! I've seen who you are and I wont let you in again. Never again Diana! Never again will I let you touch me.”

 

Her eyebrow raised delicately and sadness filled her gaze.

 

“Still haven't forgiven yourself I see,” Diana's voice was gentle and sympathetic. Her pity felt like a slap in the face. Her calmness like a sliver of kryptonite beneath his skin, making him weak and sick.

 

“Get out,” He said coldly. “Just get out of my sight.”

 

“No,” Diana's voice lost its sympathy and gained that noble air. “Kal-El, I'm not leaving. You could be in terrible danger; this wouldn't be the first time Lois has been used against you. We have to know who  she is or why she is here. Too many uncertainties surround her and that is a dangerous thing. I don't care what you want; I'm going to protect you for the sake of all the people of this world who still need you whether you choose to believe they do or not. So I will not let you use old wounds as an excuse to get rid of me. No matter how childish you choose to act I'm still going to help you.”

 

The look in her eyes made it clear just how serious she was. Though they stood at the same height Diana was doing an amazing job of looming over him. Her face drawn into a trademark scowl, though it was not her trademark. Even the speech made him think of Bruce. Of course Bruce would have called him 'Kent' and possibly thrown in a piece of actual kryptonite if he thought Superman was getting out of control. He didn't like thinking about Bruce. Diana always brought with her things he didn't want to think about. He remembered how they had been together Wonder Woman and Batman... _Diana had watched him... just like I..._ He hated it when she was around. Now he had to put up with her presence, a reminder of how weak he was, because she wasn't leaving without a fight, and he had none left in him.

 

He turned away from her. He would accept her presence here, but he didn't have to look at her, or talk to her they would wait for... the woman in the back room to finish her- _wait_ \- he listened.

 

Nothing.

 

No shower, no rummaging through the bed room, no breathing but his and Diana's. He looked. The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar placed back near shut, but not quite all the way there, and the front door was still broken and open ever so slightly.

 

Diana looked over his shoulder and then stepped around him. Seeming to note his look of distress she took long strides over to the bedroom door and opened it. He noted all his mistakes, counting each and every one off in his head. _How stupid can you be_. When Diana turned back around he was the first to speak.

 

“Please tell me she didn't listen in on our conversation then high tail it out of here while we were too busy fighting to notice...”

 

“Looks like it.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

*****

A/N And this was were I pissed everyone off the first time...


	7. Searching

**Chapter 6 – Searching**

 

_“Please tell me she didn't listen in on our conversation then high tail it out of here while we were too busy fighting to notice...”_

_“Looks like it.”_

_“Fuck.”_

 

Superman marched into the dark, mostly empty bar with sneer frozen to his face. Any patrons sober enough to notice his entrance were too shocked to speak up. He hated the smell of bars, and this seedy dump was particularly rank. _Of all the places to go..._

She sat at the bar with a shot of  tequila raised slightly in a half toast; her hair still an unwashed, unbrushed mess; wearing one of his old button up shirts, her pajama bottoms and Lois' running shoes. Superman and Diana had spent the last hour searching the city for her and here she was, just fine save the half a dozen or so shots she had downed; he could clearly see six shot glasses turned over next to her.

 

“Bottoms up,” She muttered to the middle aged bartender, who seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes on her face, and leaned back to down the shot. Superman's hand covered over the glass before it got half way up.

 

“I thought you quit drinking.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized their implications and before he had time to consider them, she spoke without looking at him.

 

“That was before I found out that, let's see... I'm dead, was married to _you_ , and oh yeah...” she rolled her head up till her hazy met his, “You were cheating on me with the Star-Spangled-Dominatrix!” Words rose in his throat, what they were he would never know because she continued. “So excuse me, _Cow El,_ if I make a little exception to my sobriety pledge.”

 

For having downed at least six shots of tequila she was rather eloquent but... _Wait, did she just call me cowl?_

 

“Cowl?” he must of blinked because she pounced on the opportunity to snatch her shot back. When her attempt to twist it out of his hand came to naught, she let out a huff blowing the bangs off of her face, and returned to glaring at him.

 

“That's what the Patriotic-Home-Wrecker called you,” she stated flatly now looking at the glass in his hand. At first he wondered what she was talking about then he remembered his last question. Her face took on a nasty smirk, though she still avoided his gaze.“Guess she knows you're a farm boy too huh?”

 

The bizarre nature of the conversation overcame him and reached up to rub his temples. He forgot of course that he was still holding her shot and the glass came tumbling to the ground and cracked apart on impact. She looked at him then.

 

“You're paying for that one,” She then looked back at the dumb struck bartender who's jaw seemed to have become un-hinged. “That was his fault so he pays for it.” She repeated.

_Now that I think about it..._ “How are you paying at all?” He asked incredulously.

 

She smiled a little and said with too much pride in her voice: “I found my purse.” She held up Lois' sleek black handbag like a trophy. Before he could even think to stop her, she turned the purse upside down and popped it open, dumping the contents out onto the sightly damp bar, even giving it a slight shack for affect. A coin purse, a box of breath mints, a pill bottle, a tube of lipstick, a ten dollar bill, a few papers and Lois' wallet came spilling forth. He snapped to attention, chasing after the lipstick, that had rolled off the table. He could not lose these things, these tiny bits of Lois. Anger sparked in him. _How dare she ruin them!_ He stood up to tell her just that, to put her back in her place as a Lois fake, when she spoke again.

 

“Wow I really did make it didn't I?” She held Lois' drivers license in her hands staring at picture. “Gray hair, wrinkles and everything... you know its going to happen but... I never... never really thought about it.” Her voice was shaky, her face... he didn't know what it meant. Tequila hazed her eyes making them almost unreadable. His hand was half way to her face before he knew it. He wanted, almost needed, to comfort her. He pulled it back to his side and clenched his fist. Her head tilted as she slipped her fingers into the wallet sliding out a photo. “Me getting chummy with some old guy in glasses...”

 

The picture she held was of him and Lois, taken maybe 5 years before she died. His memory of that day was filled with sunshine and smiles; they had gone to Centennial park, walked around, held hands, eaten ice cream; just like a normal elderly couple... only they weren't. The lines, the salt and paper hair, the way he hunched himself, was all an illusion to show the world that he was aging. Lois hated the prosthetics. He had to take them off when they were alone together, sometimes he wanted to pretend that he was normal but Lois would never have it. 'I don't like the feel of plastic,' Lois would say, 'besides I've earned my kicks!'

 

She looked up at him from the picture, “How? Why? I don't understand. I'm supposed to be old, this license expires in 2076 and you're just...” She shook her head, as if it would wash away the haze around her mind and make his youthful appearance add up with the rest of the story she was getting. “What year is this?” She was pleading with him now. Pleading for him to make sense of the incomprehensible, to explain it all to her, but he lacked the answers she sought so he answered just her question.

 

“Twenty-one eleven, it's the year twenty-one eleven.” He spoke evenly, calmly, hoping this would appease her but knowing that it couldn't. Her eyes were wide and slightly hazy as she let the information soak into her mind. Silence fell on them as she stared into his face searching. Was she looking for deception? A way to believe it was a dream? Comfort? he didn't know.

 

Finally she spoke. Her voice was wavering and unsure. “I need to see it. I need to know... know for sure. Clark I need you to take me there.. to my... to _the_ grave.”


	8. Breath

**Chapter 7 ~ Breath**

****

_Finally she spoke. Her voice was wavering and unsure. “I need to see it. I need to know... know for sure. Clark I need you to take me there.. to my... to the grave.”_

He nodded, agreeing before he even thought of what he was agreeing to. She looked so vulnerable, he couldn't help himself. However, visiting Lois' grave?! The idea alone made his stomach turn sour. He hadn't been there since his own funeral, and even then he had only watched from a distance. _This is a stupid idea_. Would a trip to Lois' grave bring any understanding? It seemed unlikely. But... when he agreed for a moment, she looked better, like a weight had been removed. He would have to honor his word.

 

When he moved to help her up the sound of glass breaking beneath his feet brought the more material problems back to him. They were still in a bar in the middle of Metropolis, with a tab building. The ten dollars that had been in Lois' purse would most likely not be enough to replace the glass and he had no money on him.

 

“How much to pay for the glass?” He asked simply.

 

The Bartender blinked a few times before getting out a, “What?”

 

“The glass I dropped,” He repeated, “How much?”

 

“Oh don't worry about it,” The man's face filled with a smile. “Superman can break a glass here any time he wants.” The bartender chuckled, obviously still a little stunned.

 

Superman hated stuff like this: Offers of 'free' gifts; invites to elite parties; being allowed to destroy things without accountability. There wasn't much he could do here however; he couldn't insist on paying when he lacked the ability to, at least for now.

 

“Come on,” He said looking down at ... the young woman. He helped her up though he discovered she really didn't need it. She walked next to him straight and tall without needing to lean on him, in fact she seemed insistent not to. She leaned a little now and then but overall kept her balance rather well as they left the dark foul smelling bar.

 

“Where's your car parked?” The young woman asked the second they exited the bar.

 

“I don't have a car.” He admitted pointedly.

 

“Well then we'll hail a cab,” She moved to do so but he stopped her, grabbing her right arm gently.

 

“Don't. I don't have any money and ten dollars will not get us out of the city.”

 

“No money? Then how did you get here? Don't tell me you ran...” She rolled her eyes dramatically.

 

He wasn't enjoying this conversation, nor what seemed to be the only conclusion as to how they were going to get to Lois' grave. The knots in his stomach were forming once again...

 

“Let me guess, Miss Adultery dropped you off?”

 

The image of Wonder Woman trying to park the invisible plane on the curb to drop Superman off at a bar was so ludicrous that it took all his self control not to laugh. Not that he hadn't been making a mockery of himself all day, first dragging a lady in pajamas across the city then chasing after her. _What a complete mess_. He took a deep breath before finally answering her.

 

“No, Diana didn't drop me off here.”

 

“Jeez, then what did you do Clark, fly?”

 

“Yes,” He stated it like the fact it was.

 

“What?” She was now staring at him like he had two heads.

 

“I said I flew here.”

 

It was hard to say. He supposed old habits made it hard, exposing his abilities. Talk with her brought him back, even in the suit he no longer felt like Superman... For Superman flying with this girl somewhere would be nothing. He did it all the time, rescued them and flew them where ever they needed to be. But the idea of flying with _her_. It was different, and he knew why. Here talking with her, he wasn't Superman... He felt like Clark Kent.

 

“Of all the times to gain a sense of humor...” She muttered. She turned fast on her heel to look him straight in the eye, she almost fell over in the process but thankfully she regained her balance before he needed to intervene. “Seriously Cow-el, Superman, Clark or whatever your calling yourself now, how did you get here?”

 

“I told you, L- ,” He gulped down the word before he let it slip past his lips. _It's just a confusing day that's all_. “I told you, I flew.”

 

“You mean like in a helicopter?”

 

“No,” He didn't blame her for not catching on. It was down right impossible to believe, she didn't know Superman. This wasn't like the other times he had exposed his abilities. 'I'm Superman' had always sufficed as an explanation, not that he had given many. Memories of the time he had told Lois of his powers as Superman ran through his mind unbidden. She had been so excited to be the first person to interview the mysterious flying hero. He had wanted to tell her everything, but he chickened out and told her the meaningless things: that he was an alien, all about his powers, his mission, and his dream of peace. He didn't tell her then what mattered: that he was Clark Kent the man who loved her; that he wasn't sure how it had happened but when they had kissed long ago in Smallville all his feelings came into focus and he knew from that moment on that there was no other woman in the world for him; that he still hated himself for not seeing it sooner and for letting her go; that the time they had spent apart had been torture for him; that seeing her at The Planet everyday filled his world with light. He hadn't said any of that then.

 

He shook the memories from his thoughts. The past was gone. This young woman is here now and he would have to show her now. He felt stomach turn slightly. He was... nervous.

 

“Watch,” He said to her, his voice a mask of calm he didn't feel. When she looked at him he found it hard to focus, so he closed his eyes to concentrate. He lifted slowly, choosing to hover only about a foot off the ground. He heard a thump then. Opening his eyes he saw she had fallen back onto her bottom and was staring slack jawed.

 

“Ow,” she mumbled.

 

He landed and leaned down. After a quick once over to determine if she had hurt herself, which to his relief she had not, he reached out his hand offering to help her up.

“You flew.” She stated dumbfounded.

 

“Yes I can fly.”

 

She looked him up and down once then returned her gaze to his face, “You haven't aged a day in a hundred years _and_ you can fly...” she grabbed his hand then and together they got her back onto her feet. She steaded herself, then patted down her pajama bottoms trying to get the dust off her backside. Finally she took one deep breath, let it out slowly and looked back to him.

 

“How?” It was a simple question. However the answers were far from simple.

 

“I'm an intergalactic traveler...” He mumbled.

 

“What?”

 

“I'm an alien.” He stated a little bit louder.

 

“Since when?”

 

Now he was the one confused, “What do you mean 'since when?' I'm an alien from another planet, I always have been.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yes,” he relayed looking her straight in the eyes. This was a lot harder then he thought it would be, and was bordering on absurdity. “I am from another planet, I came to Earth during the first meteor shower in Smallville.”

 

It was then that her eyes lit up with recognition. “Cow-el!” she yelled excitedly her mouth spread into a wide grin, “I knew I had heard that before! Those two freaks at the hospital! They were looking for you!”

 

“ _Kal_ -el.” he corrected her.

 

“Huh?”

 

“It's Kal-el not Cow-el, it's my birth name.”

 

“Kal-el is your birth name.” She appeared to roll the idea around in her head, “And the Kents...”

 

“Found me after the crash and adopted me.”

 

“Farm boy Clark: an alien. Weird... I guess though, that the alien powers thing would make the hero complex make more sense... Finding out my friend is an alien makes the world make _more_ sense.” Her eyes widened, “Wow! This is completely nuts.” She was almost giggling at that. Then her face seemed to sober, “Did I know about this?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Did I know about you, about being an alien, being able to fly?”

 

“Yes, I told Lois everything...” _eventually_. He amended mentally. Why he was nervous about admitting his deceptions to this young woman was a subject he didn't want to dwell on.

 

She looked at him closely before sighing, “So then how are we going to do this?” She asked, the joy was gone from her voice.

 

“You mean get to the grave yard...” The thought was far from pleasant for him as well. Cold stones over cold ground, housing the cold shell of the woman who had been the light of his life. His hands started to shake and he clenched them into fists. _I'm Superman damn it! I can do this!_ he yelled at himself, but the knots tying in his gut wouldn't listen.

 

He returned his attention to her. He wanted to back out, but he was no liar and he wouldn't let fear make him one. He took one last deep steadying breath.

 

“Put your arms around my neck.” He instructed. She just raised her brows. “I'm going to fly us there and this is the best way I know how so put your arms abound my neck.”

 

She nodded then and stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms carefully around his neck while still maintaining seemingly as much distance as possible. He traced one arm around her waist and pulled her to him. She looked shocked, angry, confused and, he allowed himself to admit, a bit excited when she collided into his chest. 

 

He felt his heart racing, his pulse pounding in his ears. He felt against his chest the racing beat of her heart, almost seeming to pound in time with his own. _It's not real, it's not real..._ The mantra was not having its desired affect as his mouth dried up and he felt about ready to burst.

 

“Hold on,” he barely whispered before stretching his other arm up and lifting them into the sky.


	9. Unearthed

**Chapter 8 ~ Unearthed**

 

_“Hold on,” he barely whispered before stretching his other arm up and lifting them into the sky._

 

 

Superman stood just outside the graveyard, where his heart lay, staring up at the gate arch. He had read the name spelled out in wrought iron eight times already, but he wanted to look at anything but their destination. The young woman beside him was... well he couldn't really tell. Nervous? Expectant? Panicked? Reeling? Drunk? Annoyed at him for not moving? He saw signs of all of them but there was more. Emotions in her eyes he was unsure of, and he forbade himself from thinking too much on.

 

The flight to the graveyard had been... complicated. Holding her had been elevating, wonderful, soothing, but at the same time he had felt much as a mortal must after drinking battery acid. The young woman in his arms had been just like Lois, who even **the very last time they had flown together had  treated it like the first, her eyes filled with innocent wonder.** He couldn't deny that this felt the same. **Although the young woman had flown before, by her own admission, with Kyle this morning her eyes had held that same look. She had clung to him, holding her breath for the first few moments; yet she didn't close her eyes. She kept them open and watched his face most of the time. Part of him wanted it to be from fear of looking down, other parts... He tried not to listen to what they wanted.**

 

 

The ease with which he now could forget that she wasn't Lois, how light his heart had felt having her in his arms, the fact that he was still listening to her heart beat, all added to the battery acid feel; though it was nothing compared to the sharp pain he felt now, looking at the wrought iron arch and reading the name for the ninth time. He couldn't be here... this was too much! _Go! Run! Fly away! Quick!_ repeated in his head but...

 

... _promise me..._

 

He had made a promise, in his mind at least, to this young woman and he was going to keep it. He knew he couldn't stand to see that look on her face.

 

The young woman swallowed and took a deep breath. He looked at her again, her eyes were filled with determination as she stared into the graveyard before her.

 

“So. We going to do this or what...” She turned to look at him and gulped oddly, “... Clark?”

 

She was nervous and fighting it hard. He would have to be strong as well. He took a step towards the last place in this world he wanted to be. Whoever said the hardest part is the first step had no idea what they were talking about. Each step was harder then the last. The craving, the pleading to run, increased exponentially as he closed in on his destination.

 

His up-hill journey ended when he reached a Yew tree that grew near Lois' grave. This was as close as he had come during his own funeral, he wouldn't, couldn't bring himself any closer now.

 

The young woman looked at him with confused eyes. “What...” she began but didn't finish.

 

“There.” He pointed to the stone slab. A slab that, with his eyesight, he could read perfectly from where he stood but didn't need to. He could close his eyes and see it. Its smooth cut, gray imperfections, and haunting inscription:

 

Lois Joanne Lane-Kent

1985 - 2074

“Look to the Future”

 

Lois told him that once, 'Look to the future...' It had stuck with him and when the man asked what he wanted written on Lois' head stone, it was the first and only thing he could think of. At the time she had spoken those words, there had been much to look to... now the words rang as hollow as the future before him.

 

Inscribed on its right face was a smooth arch, that when placed with it's mate formed a delicate heart shape. Its mate stood not much more then a foot away from it. He hadn't actually paid much attention to his own head stone, in fact this was as close as he had ever come to it. The curved arch that formed half a heart was on its left side and it's inscription was easy for him to read:

 

Clark Jerome Kent

1987 - 2075

“Parting is all we know of heaven,  
And all we need of hell.”

 

The Inscription was Bruce's idea. Aside from the half heart, everything about Clark Kent's burial had been Bruce's doing. Bruce had been the only one left who knew Superman's secret and could by any stretch be called a friend to Clark Kent; However, the arrangements had hardly been smooth going. He had spent a few days at Wayne manor trying to hammer out the arrangements with Bruce, but he had not been much help. In fact, on day two, Bruce had told him in no uncertain terms how annoyed he was at having to do all the work.

 

'Your head stone is going to read “Insufferable Moron' unless you give me some idea of what you want,' Bruce had said. He hadn't been lying when he told Bruce that he didn't care what it said, and 'Insufferable Moron' would do just fine. It was Diana who- but he didn't want to think about that. In the end Bruce had really done a remarkable job.

 

Bruce had even delivered his eulogy. Which had felt odd given that Bruce was one of the only people that knew his true status. However Bruce was nothing if not the worlds greatest actor, his speech had been a tear felt farewell to a friend... Or perhaps Bruce did understand the reality, that even if there was nothing to bury, Clark Kent had died with his wife...

 

The young woman had walked over to Lois' grave. She took in a hissing breath as she reached a shaky hand out to touch the smooth surface of the headstone. Her hand traced the path of the word Joanne. She fell slowly to her knees then, transfixed by the stone slab before her.

 

From his vantage point he could no longer see her expressions. Though he tried not to, he found himself wondering what she was thinking. What could one think staring at one's own death? _Even if it isn't really hers..._ He was drawn out of his thoughts when a small whimpering sound reached his ears. Her shoulders were slumped, her body shaking slightly, and her breath was coming out in uneven, shaky, slight gasps. There was no denying it... she was crying.

 

His heart leaped a little in his chest. He knew he had to do something but before he could think of what, she spoke.

 

“You stupid bitch!” She screamed, “You died Lane-Kent! He cheated on you! He betrayed you! Were you so stupid you didn't see it!? So pathetic you couldn't do anything about it!?” She slammed her hands against the stone as if it could feel the pain.

 

 _No..._ His mind raced but no other thought could be found, he had never thought that _...No!_

She continued to slam her hands uselessly against the stone. “Did you think he still loved you while he was fucking another woman!? Did you think that you couldn't live without him!? You didn't need him! You're strong! You don't need anyone! How could you let yourself become so weak!? You...” She was cut off when a hand wrapped gently around hers and lifted her up. He had super-sped over to her before he had time to think.

 

“No...” He spoke gently, his left hand came up and gently stroked her tear-streaked and shocked face “You're wrong, Lois... it wasn't like that.” His thumb slowly wiped away the tear that still hovered near her eye. “I never wanted anyone else when I had you. I could never...”

 

“But all those things you said to that woman!” She protested half heartedly. She was right, he had lead her to believe such things, he never corrected her... He tried to think he hadn't meant to, that he _had_ tried to correct her before, but it rang false. He had let it happen because it made her hate him, and that made things easier, just like with Diana...

 

Diana... It had been just after Bruce's funeral. No one had been there offering their condolences to her.  She wasn't his grieving widow, to the public she was just another girl in a long line of in home nurses the former playboy had hired due to her looks. She mourned alone. He wondered now if it was easier then listening to a long parade of false condolences as he had done. They had gone back to Wayne manor together. The place had always seemed empty to him, and without Bruce it seemed barely real. He and Diana had not talked, there was nothing to say. When he looked into her eyes, he saw a hopelessness there, a look he had seen in the mirror just after Lois died.

 

How it started, or more importantly who had started it was lost but hotly debated in his mind. All he could remember was the flooding pain sweeping through him and a willingness to do anything to relieve it. In an embrace and kiss they sought comfort. It hadn't been good enough; for either of them, he suspected. Tender touches became rough. Soft kisses became maddening lip-locks without concern for one another. In those moments his fury had been let lose: why was he the one left alone? Why did he lose everything he loved? He was angry -furious!- at the world for continuing as if his hadn't ended, at his parents for sending him to this world where he would be alone, at everyone, at Lois for leaving him... They had fought as much as touched. The sex was rough, violent, almost brutal, but each knew that the other could take it. During that time it had felt good, the way the violence and anger had flown out of him. Afterwards he had felt... shame and anger, but this time at himself. When the cold returned he had welcomed it... he deserved a life alone.

 

That had been the last time he had cried, so it was surprising to find that tears had begun to well up in his eyes.

 

“You left me...” he whispered to Lois, “You died and you left me here all alone.” His right arm reached around her and he held her close. “I'm so sorry,” He felt a tear roll down his cheek as he spoke, “I'm sorry I wasn't stronger. I'm sorry that I couldn't be more... Please forgive me, it was a mistake, I felt so alone... please,  I need you.”

 

Her arms slowly wrapped around him, as if he was some fragile glass statue she could break with her embrace. Her right hand came up and absently stroked the back of his head as she made little uncertain shushing sounds.

 

“It's alright,” she spoke gently, “It's okay Clark... there's nothing to forgive.”


	10. Awake

**Chapter 9- Awkward**

 

_“It's alright,” she spoke gently, “It's okay Clark... there's nothing to forgive.”_

 

 

He held onto to Lois that way, crying in her arms for what felt simultaneously like mere seconds and eons. Her awkward shushing abated and she simply held him to her, stroking his back almost absently. He felt horrible, exposed, nervous, and absolutely wonderful. Lois was in his arms again, and she didn't hate him... He had laid his sins and his heart before her and she had accepted them and him without judgment.

 

 

“Lois,” he sighed gently. She must have taken it as a sign that he was done crying, for she released her grip on him gently. He pulled his arms from around her slowly, feeling slightly emptier for it. She moved back slightly and he looked into her eyes. _She has such beautiful eyes..._

 

 

While Lois didn't exactly meet his gaze, she was looking at him. Calmly scanning his face, she seemed be searching for signs that he was going to fall apart. He was surprised when her delicate hand reached out and began gently wiping at the tear streaks that marred his face.

 

 

“Oh Smallville, look at you all blotchy,” she chided with awkward humor in her voice. Then she tilted her head slightly, “You're smiling...” her voice trailed off in confusion.

 

 

He was too, smiling that is. He hadn't even realized it until she pointed it out. He had started smiling in response to her tease, it just seemed natural.

 

 

“I am,” he said and he couldn't seem to stop smiling either.

 

 

“It's weird,” she confessed, “It feels like I haven't seen you smile in a long time.”

 

 

“I haven't had much to smile about,” he replied honestly. However, as he gazed at her face, he found it  completely impossible to stop smiling.

 

 

He breathed deep to inhale her scent as he allowed his eyes to drink her in. Her hair was a disaster; not only did it suffer from horrendous bed head, but the flight here had tangled it even farther. Her eyes were red rimed and slightly puffy from crying. The right sleeve of his shirt was rolled up past her elbow, however the left had fallen down and the cuff was rumpled up at her wrist. The knot she had made at the waist had come undone and the unbuttoned flaps were now hanging down in a mess of wrinkles. The left knee of her horseshoe pajama bottoms was covered in mud. The old running shoes looked about to crumble off her feet. She was breathtaking!

 

 

When he caught Lois' eye, once again he found himself unconsciously leaning into her. Her eyes widened and she took a step back almost faster then he could blink, that was indeed saying something. Lois looked... terrified.

 

 

“Well um... yeah,” she tried. “What with the... everything. Must have been hard...”

 

 

Lois was amazingly shaken. _Of course she's shaken you idiot,_ he reprimanded himself, _you just tried to kiss her!_ He hadn't been thinking. This Lois, she was only what? Twenty? Twenty-one? He wasn't her husband, he wasn't even her boyfriend. His heart sank a little.

 

 

_..Finding out my **friend** is an alien..._

A friend, that's all he was to her... not even best friend yet. The realization stung. How cruel fate was to be so close and yet... She remembered none of it. All his memories of their life and love and it was only an obscure idea in her mind. He didn't have his wife back. He most likely had Oliver's girlfriend. Bile rose within him at that thought. His heart hurt so badly he wanted to scream. How unfair it was to drag up all his emotions, to leave him vulnerable, alone, and unloved _._

 

 

A loud growl emanating from Lois' stomach pulled him from his self pity. How selfish he was being! Lois was standing there nervous, and obviously hungry, still throwing out sentence fragments in hopes one would get him talking and free her from the awkward moment. Instead of helping her, he allowed himself to be consumed by what was missing, ignoring all that was there.

_Lois is here. She is radiant. She is wonderful. She cares about me. She's here,_ his mind soothed.

He smiled to himself. So she wasn't in love with him... While that had meant more than anything else, just having her here was an exhilarating, heart lifting experience. He could hold her in his arms, grasp her hand in his, tell her his secrets and fears, be called Smallville again... All the little things that had been so special about them were right here. He loved her and he still felt his heart soar when she was near. That was all he needed, and far more then he deserved.

 

 

“You're babbling,” he teased her gently. “Come on I'll fly you back home. We can get cleaned up, then I'll take you out to eat.”

 

 

“Huh?” Lois said as she fell out of her rambling.

 

 

“Come on.” He stretched out his arm to her. “I won't bite.”

 

 

“I'm not too sure about that,” Lois muttered while looking suspiciously at his offered arm.

 

 

“Come on Lois,” He said with a smile. “Just give me your hand and we can go get some food.”

 

 

Lois looked ready to protest but the loud growl that emanated from her stomach silenced her. With a sigh she quickly extended her hand to him.

 

 

When he wrapped his hand around her offered one he felt a warmth run through him. Her hand was warm, soft and familiar. They fit together so perfectly he observed as he gazed at their joined hands, absently stroking the back of her hand a few times.

 

 

A loud “AHEM!” from Lois snapped him out off his musings.

 

 

“Are we going or what?” she said sounding rather annoyed. She had even wrinkled up her nose for affect but her cheeks betrayed her, having taken on a rather pinkish hue.

 

 

“Oh, um yeah...” he said rather lamely as he stepped over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Lois continued to try to look annoyed while her cheeks became redder. He felt assaulted by sensations: The soft feel of her body pressed up against him; the sound of her heart beating; the smell of her hair. His mind struggled with his heart's wish to once again taste her lips.

 

 

 _Calm down,_ he told himself, _take a deep breath and take off._ Though simple in principle, it was rather hard to do with his heart still warring within him over the lack of kissing. He forced his eyes closed and willed them into the air.

 

 

Looking down he saw the cemetery get smaller and smaller as he flew back home with Lois in his arms and the sound of his heart beat ringing in his ears. 


	11. Hungry

**Chapter 10 – Hungry**

 

_Looking down, he saw the cemetery get smaller and smaller as he flew back home with Lois in his arms and the sound of his heart beat ringing in his ears._

 

Clark sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wooden door to his bathroom. His wife was on the other side of that door, taking a shower. Well, not exactly his wife but... Lois was in the shower and it was taking every ounce of strength he had not to join her.

 

The flight back to their apartment had been quick; it took him about 5 minutes. He could have flown faster, but it would have been very uncomfortable for her. Lois had tried very hard not to look amazed but whenever he caught her eyes he saw that sparkle... she couldn't hide her joy. However, when they landed on the balcony the sparkle went away, she immediately extracted herself from his arms and ran into the bedroom with the excuse of being 'Way too hungry for chit chat.' Lois had whirl winded her way through the bedroom  picking out clothes, leaving only a trail of open drawers and scattered socks in her wake, then made a mad dash into the bathroom locking the door firmly behind her.

 

He wasn't one-hundred percent sure about what clothing Lois had grabbed, for she hadn't exactly slowed to show them to him. He had caught a glimpse of a pair of black dress pants and one of his white button down shirts, not to mention the other... necessities, which was yet another thing he was trying very hard not to think too much about. Lois always seemed to enjoy stealing his shirts, particularly his 'horrendous' plaid. It brought a smile to his face once again, remembering that Lois spent so much time wearing what she claimed so loudly to hate. Lois' choice in clothing was also something to smile about. She felt comfortable enough to wear his things; that had to be a good sign...

 

So now Lois was in the shower. The hot water rolling across her smooth, lightly tanned skin... Her neck, gracefully arching as she brushes the water over her long hair.. Her ab muscles contracting under his gentle ministrations as his hands make a trail of soft caresses up to her smooth pert breas- _Oh dear God!_ He desperately tried to clamp down on his errant thoughts; his imagination was running away with him.

 

His hands roughly grabbed on to the edge of the bed, as he tried to ground himself to reality. A loud snapping sound as the seams of the mattress began breaking apart was his only reward. The image of a lightly sudsy, naked Lois dancing around in the shower refused to leave his mind.

 

Along with shirt stealing, showers had always held a strange place in his relationship with Lois. He remembered the times in Smallville when she wanted something in the bathroom and she would just walk right in. That had certainly thrown him at the time, in fact it drove him down right crazy but... Years later when they were partners at the Planet, she stopped walking in on him. At first he had thought it had something to do with their strained working relationship. The times he spent at her apartment or vice versa were always between assignments when clean up was necessary. However, even when he had become 'The best friend a girl could ever ask for,' she still waited outside the door when she wanted something from inside or needed to talk. It wasn't until a month after he had finally convinced her to give him a shot that she walked in on him again. She needed her hairbrush and was 'unwilling to wait'. It was in that moment that he knew for sure he had been right about them becoming a couple. The missing piece of their relationship fell into place: Lois had become completely comfortable around him again. The first time they had made- _Stop!_ the rational part of his mind screamed and the mattress made a strange _pang_ sound in protest. He had warped the frame to the point that a spring had just snapped.

 

 _Well, another bed ruined_. The last time he had manged to break one, Lois had been... He needed a cold shower, badly. Of course, that thought only brought more memories of just what was in the shower: What he could hear, if he stopped focusing; see, if he let up for one moment; and touch, if he just gave the crystal doorknob a strong turn...

 

He needed to do something! Anything! to keep his mind off of the delightfully naked Lois in the other room. _...Naked.... Clothes!_ Now that was a good idea. He had been running around in his Superman outfit all day and it had certainly attracted far too much attention for his liking. Taking Lois out to... Lunch?... as Superman would undoubtedly be more than awkward for everyone involved. Plus, taking her to a restaurant would be as good as an endorsement... civilian clothes were certainly the better choice.

 

He relaxed his death grip on the mattress- the metal frame groaned, attempting to shift back into place. _It's lucky_ he thought absently _that I'm no longer the teenager that Lois had first met. If I was, the apartment would be on fire by now_. And with that optimistic thought, he walked over to the closet. It had been nearly 20 years since he had last worn normal clothes. Without a secret identity or social life to speak of, changing in and out of his uniform seemed like a waste of time. Not that 1.2 seconds was a lot of time. His hand trailed over suit after suit; at the job he had liked looking professional, but they were a bit much for causal dinning. He moved over to his dresser instead and began digging through his old tee-shirts and plaid over shirts. Eventually simple blue jeans, a pair of white socks, boxers, a white tee shirt, and a red and gold plaid over shirt were all collected and tossed onto the light blue bed sheets.

 

He allowed himself a moment to listen. The shower was still going and he pulled his powers back before it got any other details. As long as Lois was in the shower she wouldn't walk in on him making things even more uncomfortable between them. In 1.7 seconds, he was a bit rusty it seemed, he was out of the uniform and into the clothes he had just picked out. Looking across the room into the mirror atop Lois' dresser he saw Superman, wearing plaid, staring back at him. His hair was too well groomed and pulled back from his face; even in normal clothes he was sure to be recognized.

_Well,_ he smiled to himself, _I know how to fix that._ Using his hand he ruffled up his hair trying to get it to fall naturally. With a bit of elbow grease and some vigorous shaking he was able to free his bangs and get a far more casual, natural look, though some bits still stuck together in odd ways. _No one will notice_ , he assured himself calmly. _One more thing..._ He reached over to the small box on top of his own dresser and pulled out a pair of his prescription-less glasses. In a well practiced motion he flipped them open and slid them onto his face. Their slight weight on the bridge of his nose was oddly comfortable. Returning his gaze to the mirror he assured himself that indeed, he no longer looked like the Man of Steel.

 

Finished dressing, he sat down on the bed next to his costume, intentionally facing the wall away from the shower. Speedy dressing certainly had it's down sides, as his mind was taking his lack of activity as a license to remember all of his... adventures with Lois in the shower. Looking down at the costume beside him, he found himself another short lived activity: finding something to carry it in. Of course, the room had several bags and a few brief cases, so there was little to do other then pick one and toss his suit in.

 

Somewhere along the line, he had taken to pacing back and forth along his side of the bed. He was missing something, he was sure of that. Keeping his mind on what he was forgetting kept it off Lois' marathon shower... for the most part. _I'm dressed, I have my costume, my 'date' is getting ready_ ... _money._ It was a simple thing really, but once you've gotten use to not using it, it is hard to remember you need it. Pulling open his sock drawer, he began rummaging through until he found the old lock box that contained a small emergency supply of money. Having no clue where the key might be, he simply broke the lock off and was rewarded with 120 dollars, which would be enough for awhile. Before he could pocket the cash, the sound of the door opening greeted his ears.

 

“Well that was annoying,” Lois said behind his back, “The shampoo and conditioner turned into powder and a rock respectively. I had to dig under the sink for something sealed and even they smelled rather odd, but whatever gets-” When he turned to face her she stopped mid sentence and her eyes widened. She was cleaned up, her hair brushed but still wet. The red towel that was hanging on her right arm slipped from her grasp. “Whoa! Smallville, you look... like a totally different person!”

 

“Well, thank goodness you recognized me then,” He said half seriously then smiled. The effectiveness of his disguise had always been a bit of a sore spot with Lois, so it was probably not a great idea to tease her about it.

 

“It's the plaid. Only you would pick out something as horrendous as that,” She teased “Besides you look more like yourself with your hair like that... but those glasses are a bit jarring.”

 

“Come on,” He smiled. It felt good to be teased again, as he slipped the money into his pocket, “Lets get you something to eat.” He offered her his arm and her eyebrows lifted as she shook her head lightly.

 

“How about let's not play knight in shinning armor?” she said flatly and walked past him into the living room. He followed her as she made a right turn out towards the balcony.

 

“Lois, that's the wrong way,” he chuckled. “We will be leaving through the front door this time.”

 

“Why?” Lois asked, obviously trying not to look disappointed. It was a pretty good show but he had become the master of reading Lane moods.

 

“Because, as much as we both might enjoy the flight, having a relaxed meal after flying in might be a bit difficult; what with the staring, pointing, dumbfounded looks-"

 

“Fine!” Lois interrupted him, defeated. “Good point. You win. I guess we have been getting a lot of strange looks with you in that get up.” She walked over to the door. “Let's just get out of here. I'm starving.”


	12. Chapter 11 - Pancake

**Chapter 11 - Pancake**

 

_“Fine, I guess we have been getting a lot of strange looks with you in that get up.” She walked over to the door. “Let's just get out of here. I'm starving.”_

 

 

 

Lois stared at her stack of strawberry syrup coated pancakes, then at the food that wasn't in front of him, then up at his face. He knew he was staring at her. He knew it was making her uncomfortable, but he couldn't find it within himself to stop.

 

 

“You going to eat something?” She asked hopefully.

 

 

“I love you,” The words slipped carelessly out of his mouth, without thought or warning.

 

 

Lois' eyes widened and her cheeks took on a slight flush. She then shoved a giant helping of pancake into her mouth, and proceeded to look at all the lovely posters hanging in the IHoP. Before she could even finish chewing her first bite, she shoved another giant wedge in her mouth. Lois loved pancakes, they were one of her favorite comfort foods, which had prompted the decision to bring her here, but she didn't love them _that_ much.

 

 

“Lois, you cannot keep your mouth full forever.”

 

 

“Oh yes I can!” she said with her mouth still extraordinarily full, so it came out more like 'aw yesh ah cahn!'

 

 

“I've seen you try it before,” he told her as he felt a smile curve onto his lips, “it didn't work then, it won't work now.”

 

 

Lois looked slightly confused, “When did that happen?” she asked with a still too full mouth.

 

 

“At work, when I asked you what you thought of Mandy,” He grinned widely remembering that day. “You shoved everything on your desk, and mine, that could possibly be viewed as edible into your mouth.” He chuckled slightly, “I think you ate my eraser.”

 

 

Lois made a weird gulping sound as a very panicked look formed on her face. Faster then the eye could see, he was behind her and gently patted her on the back. Crumbles of pancake were coughed up onto her napkin. Not one to be daunted by a small thing like choking, Lois looked up at him.

 

 

“I ate an eraser?!” She asked.

 

 

“Yes,” He moved to sit down across from her once more, “and you still had to tell me what you thought of Mandy.”

 

 

“That bad huh? You must have really liked that Mandy girl for me to avoid telling you like that...”

 

 

“Well, no actually,” he felt sheepish admitting this to her and absently scratched the back of his head. “I liked you,” he muttered so low he hoped, for reasons he couldn't comprehend, she could not hear then spoke up again. “And you where always talking about guys to me, like I was you best girl pal or something, I hoped maybe talking about girl with you would... well, if nothing else, get you to stop.”

 

 

Lois looked down right dumbstruck, with her jaw hanging slightly. He was quite thankful she hadn't begun eating again. He really didn't want to have to preform the Heimlich maneuver.

 

 

“And that worked?!” She demanded.

 

 

“Well we did get married.” He said with a smart grin, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

 

 

Lois shifted uncomfortably again. Her eyes returned to her stack of pancakes and she cut herself off an reasonable bite this time, thank goodness.

 

 

“I meant it.” He couldn't help himself, she might not feel the same way now but he couldn't hide his feelings, and even before he had really allowed himself to recognize her, he had done a poor job of it. “I really love you Lois Lane. Don't worry, you don't have to say anything.”

 

 

And she didn't. Lois just stared down at her plate eating in total silence. Uncomfortable wasn't exactly the word... tense silence seemed a better descriptor. He wasn't sure what to say now, and Lois seemed to be at a similar loss, both waiting for the other to speak. He knew it wouldn't be too long. He had the advantage. 37 years of life in the arctic with little to do but wait for the world to need him had caused him to grow accustomed to tense silences.

 

 

“So... we worked together?” she finally spoke but still didn't look up at him. “You said our desks so...”

 

 

“Yeah, we worked side-by-side,” he smiled at her, trying for his best reassuring look but since she still refused to meet his gaze it was lost.

 

 

 “Guess I didn't make it then,” she sighed.

 

 

“What?” Now he was quite lost.

 

 

“As a reporter, I mean.” He wanted to laugh at that but she sounded rather upset so...

 

 

“Lois you made it,” He reassured her. “All the way to top reporter at the Daily Planet. I was lucky to be your partner.”

 

 

Lois looked at him now. Her eyebrows raised in disbelief, as if he had told her pink elephants had rained down on Metropolis.

 

 

“Look Smallville,” Lois said in an annoyed tone.“I've believed a lot of insane stuff up to this point. You being a flying alien not being low on that list, but _you_... a reporter at the Daily Planet? Please.” she rolled her eyes before adding, “Don't push your luck.”

 

 

He was glad that he wasn't eating just then, because he would have been the one choking. As it was he managed an almost strangled chuckle.

 

 

“Lois,” he said through bouts of chuckles, “It couldn't be that long since you would have said _you_ being at the Daily Planet was the impossible part of the story.”

 

 

Lois huffed as he begin to really laugh.

 

 

“Fine, point taken. You can stop laughing now.”

 

 

“No I can't.” It was simply the truth but Lois looked less then pleased by it.

 

 

 Her face tightened into a scowl as she spoke: “Fine laugh it up, Lois and her pathetic journalism career are hilarious.” That got him to stop. It felt like a sharp slap to the face from Doomsday. Sure he would tease her but he would never...

 

 

“Lois, I'm not-”

 

 

“So the Inquisitor isn't the Daily Planet, or even the Herald, but it's something! And while chasing after chupacabras may not be the most dignified work, My name is in print! I named the Green Arrow!”

 

 

“Lois-”

 

 

“I have worked hard and you can make fun of me all you want but I found that fighting-”

 

 

“Lois!” that got her attention.

 

 

“What?” she still looked steamed.

 

 

“I wasn't making fun of you.” he said sincerely, “I wasn't laughing at you.” She still looked... well... less then convinced; if this wasn't going to end up a disaster he would have to do some quick talking. “Really I wasn't! At least not in that way... I was laughing because... you make me happy,” He reached out and grasped her left hand, “Just being around you, and what you said it reminded me a lot of something you've said before, when we met up again at the Daily Planet.”

 

 

Lois stared down and bit her lip. She was very openly nervous, “Smallville,” she began with a somewhat pained voice.

 

 

His first thought was to confess just how much he loved it when she called him that, but looking at her face he knew it would be a bad idea. Lois wasn't in the mood to hear it. “Yeah... I know.” He stopped her before she could continue. He didn't need to hear another 'letting him down gently' speech. He let go of her hand, feeling slightly pained at the absence of it's warmth.

 

 

Lois tried and failed to hold a smile. “Well,” she said simply.

 

 

“Well,” he replied in turn.

 

 

His immunity to the awkwardness of the situation seemed to have run out because the silence was becoming painful to his ears. He searched through his memories of their conversation, trying to find some point to return to that was less tense. Of course since he was trying to find something else it was all he could think of, butthinking of all the tension between them was not entirely unpleasant.

 

 

“So...”

 

 

He began to feel guilty for the amount of times he had reduced Lois to this state today. If only he knew what she knew he could have a jumping off point... He cursed himself for not thinking of that two 'umms' ago.

 

 

“So, when exactly are you from?” _Well that was down right eloquent._

 

 

“What?” Lois looked slightly confused but before he could explain what he had meant the clouds of confusion parted from her face. “Oh! Right,” she sounded ready to laugh at herself. “Well lets see... yesterday was Tuesday the... 19th of April.” She reasoned out, “Oh! Two-thousand-seven. You think, with this being the year twenty-one-eleven, I'd remember to put that first.” He was about to tell her that it was understandable but she continued, “Everything is so weird and different, and I have no idea what is going on. But it's like... it's like... well I know you. In fact, you're the only thing I know here.” She looked straight into his eyes then, and he could swear she saw deep into his soul. “Your the only thing that makes any sense, so when you're around I keep forgetting how crazy it is... I guess that really doesn't make that much sense either, just forget it.” Except that it made perfect sense to him, because it basically summed up his feelings.

 

 

“No, it does. I know exactly how you feel,” he confessed slowly. She raised a brow slowly. “Well maybe not exactly... but I get it, I do.” He smiled at her perhaps a little too hopefully because Lois looked away from his face again.

 

 

“So April,” He tried restarting the conversation he had intended to begin. “Hundred and four years ago in April..” He tried to think of what exactly had and had not happened by then but his mind seemed stuck on the slight flush that he could have sworn Lois had worn when he smiled.

 

 

“Right,” Lois seemed to grasp his problem, “well lets see... Big memorable events.” He stopped himself from saying that he remembered every moment of his life with her. “You, me, and a Cage Match to the death?” She broke out into a grin then and chuckled lightly. “Sounds a lot funnier then it was.”

 

 

He smiled back, “You're right, it does.” So she remembered fighting Titan together. That meant that Oliver was history, and had been for months within her mind. There was a great amount of satisfaction within that thought. She may not love him back yet but he had no competition within her heart.

 

 

“That was about a week ago. I showed you the article I wrote. You looked like you were trying really hard not to laugh.” She had sounded very casual until the end when a very accusing tone formed in her voice.

 

 

Thinking back he knew she was right. He had been trying very hard not to laugh. It wasn't her article in and of itself, that had actually been really good. I was just an article, in The Inquisitor, without a single mention of aliens that had actually been all about aliens. Well, an alien. He hadn't actually been mentioned in the article, for which he was highly thankful.

 

 

“Please, Lois-” that's when he heard them. People were screaming, crying out in pain and fear. He jumped up out of his seat and drew his briefcase to him. “I have to go. I uhh... I need...”

 

 

“To put on the crazy suit and fly somewhere?” Lois stood up, seeming unsurprised.

 

 

“Yeah...” He felt really stupid. He had been so caught up in the past. He had subconsciously started listening for emergencies like he did then, and was even going to spit out some pathetic lie about leaving the oven on or something.

 

 

“Okay. Let's just put down some money and we can get out of here.”

 

 

“No, Lois, we aren't going anywhere.” Lois now looked quite confused.

 

 

“But you...”

 

 

“I'm going, alone. It's too dangerous, I'm not taking you.” At that Lois looked down right pissed.

 

 

“You don't need to wor-”

 

 

“This isn't a discussion, I don't have time.” With that he left all the money he had on the table and was out the door before anyone could blink. Within a few seconds he was changed and in the air headed for danger.


End file.
